


Is This Real Life?

by Queenie_Mab



Series: PJO ficlets and oneshots [30]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Anal Sex, Fantasizing, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Parent/Child Incest, Pining, Self-Hatred, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 09:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie_Mab/pseuds/Queenie_Mab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will's got issues. It runs in the family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is This Real Life?

**Author's Note:**

> Based on prompt #47 "No one needs to know" from an [ask-meme](http://mab-speaks.tumblr.com/post/113494424154) on Tumblr. Requested by [Brunagonda](http://brunagonda.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> I wrote this on sleep deprived fumes, so please forgive the way the writing may kinda veer off in odd directions at times. It's Will's POV and in the state he's in... I think it works to have it be a little wibbly wobbly.

_Shit!_

Will groans as the first morning sunbeam filters through the slats in his window and bathes his face in warmth - Apollo's good morning kiss. 

He squeezes his eyes tightly closed, gripping his sheets, not wanting to face the truth. 

Every morning for the past month without fail, ever since he accidentally spotted his dad and the West Wind going at while out for his morning jog, he wakes up instantly hard and thinking about his father. Worse still, he's not thinking about his father in just an appreciative way. That would still weird most people out, but when your dad is a Greek god and looks like sex on legs, it's at least understandable. No. Will's thinking about how much he wants Apollo to do those things he did to Zephyr, to him.

If anybody ever found out, his brothers and sisters, his friends – gods, Mr. D – he's not sure he'd be able look any of them in the eye. The shame, the fear … and … _oh fuck._ The sunbeam grows. He can feel it spreading down his face to his bare chest, his nipples hardening into pebbled nubs. He stifles a groan low in his throat and shifts his hips. He's so hard it hurts, and resisting the urge to touch himself takes all his willpower and then some. 

He turns his head, sweat trickling into the shell of his ear from his temple and opens his eyes a crack. The rest of the cabin is still shrouded in darkness. The only sounds are the soft snores from his sleeping brothers and sisters. Will fights his instinct to sing a paean to Apollo out of gratefulness they won't see him in this state. He's not grateful for the state itself. 

The sunbeam grows warmer as if it's seeping into Will's skin, warming his muscles, relaxing his ligaments. He bites his lip to keep from crying out, his cock dribbling precome against his cotton briefs as a thought strikes him. What if Apollo is aware of what's happening to Will? What if he's doing it deliberately?

The idea sends a shockwave through Will's nerves, twinging deep in his middle, behind his navel. Will inhales deeply. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until silver sparks flash in his vision: a sign his blood pressure is too high.

_Touch yourself, Will. Relieve that pressure._

Will's mind freezes, though his body seems to move on its own agenda, fed by the sun and fueled even more by the suggestion. He's not sure if it's his own mind talking to him or if it really is Apollo. He blinks, a bead of sweat catching in his eyelashes.

"Apollo?" he whispers. 

He regrets speaking as soon as the name crosses his lips. If it isn't Apollo doing these things to him, if it _is_ something as simple as a hormonal flare up, he's going to have to explain himself to Apollo. Saying his name is as good as summoning him, and Apollo has always responded when Will called for him. 

Will turns his head from side to side on his pillow, soaking it with sweat from the back of his hair and neck. He shuts his eyes tight and grips his sheet in tight fists on either side of his hips to keep from touching. 

"Will?" 

Apollo's voice. 

Will wants to cry, though he's not sure if it's frustration, pain, or sexual desperation that's breaking him down. 

Apollo sweeps through the sweat on Will's brow with his hand, then pushes the heel of his palm up against Will's forehead, and threads his fingers into Will's wet hair. 

"You don't have a fever," Apollo murmurs, and Will forces his body to still, concentrating on returning his breathing to a normal pace. When Apollo withdraws his hand, Will opens his eyes and looks up. It's worse than he imagined, seeing his father in person, _in the flesh,_ his mind unhelpfully supplies. 

Apollo's sky blue eyes seem to dance with merriment despite the concerned expression on his face, his eyebrows furrowed, forehead wrinkled, lips turned down at the corners. 

"I need …" Will starts to say, and then stops as another wave of heady arousal racks his nervous system. It leaves him feeling like a live electric wire cut in the middle, sparking with danger that can kill. Will stares into his father's eyes, pleading in his mind that Apollo not make him say it out loud. 

Apollo's frown deepens, and this time Will really does cry, hot tears streaking down the salty trails already left from his sweat. He feels like a failure, a disappointment. Like Apollo has seen the gaping hole in Will's chest, the rotten thoughts chewing through his heart and spreading like cancer. 

"No," Apollo says as he wipes Will's tears from his eyes. Apollo's touch, even on his eyelids, acts like a balm to Will's emotions. It does not quell the ache in his dick. It throbs in Will's briefs and Will gasps, hoping to Hades Apollo will mistake it for pain. "I think you need to come with me. I'll take you to Delos and sort you out away from the others." He boops the end of Will's nose with a playful knuckle, and smiles again. "That okay with you, Kiddo?"

Will nods. Away from the shame, the exposure. He might be able to tell his father the truth, to brainstorm whatever is fucking with his head and figure out how to fix it. If it's just them, he'll find the courage. 

The world disappears in a swirl of gold and silver, and in the space between breaths, Will finds himself lying on another bed. A dry one. 

He looks left and right, not finding Apollo. The room's decor looks to be a mix between what Will imagines a rich college frat boy would choose, and a shop dedicated to the study of ancient culture. Marble and bronze puzzles and games sit on top of a shelf holding a sweet pimped out stereo system, and paintings hanging from the walls are interspersed with movie posters.

The mattress dips behind him, and Will turns to look, swallowing over and over as his salivary glands go into overdrive. Apollo, appearing to be no older than eighteen, the same age as Will, kneels behind him on the mattress, sitting on his heels, and entirely naked. 

Will can't help but take in the vision he makes, his skin a golden tan, sun-kissed and glistening in the light filtering through a sky-light above the bed. His hair is thick and gold-blond, curling up behind his ears before turning to small ringlets further back, and his body … Will gulps, his asshole twitching with _need_ , and making him want to dissolve into nothingness, to just sink through the mattress and not _be_ anymore. 

Apollo doesn't seem to like the direction his thoughts are going, and shakes his head, though he doesn't look disappointed, more worried, and even a little bit like he gets it, like he's been there. 

"What now?" Will asks, hearing his own voice reverberate back at him and bizarrely, comfort him in the knowledge nobody else heard the fear in the question. Another wave of desire crashes through him, his face burning up. He closes his eyes and waits for it to pass. If only ignoring his arousal would make it go away. 

Apollo shifts until he's sitting beside Will's shoulder, as the intensity mellows enough that Will thinks he can handle seeing again. He watches as Apollo leans back on a small pile of pillows, his arms up, and rests the back of his head in his palms. Will drops his eyes and takes in Apollo's legs: long and muscular like the male ballet dancers Will can't get enough of watching when the rec room television is free. 

Apollo lifts an eyebrow, and wrinkles his forehead. "Now I'm all yours. You have my complete and entire attention." His lips smirk. "Not many people can claim that, Will. Only my few rare and precious pearls." He winks.

Will flushes from the top of his head all the way to the tips of his toes. His cock throbs again, his balls so tight he's afraid they'll burst. He releases a shaky breath, trying to cover it with a nervous sort of laugh. 

"You're my dad," Will says, and then clears his throat. He whispers. "I think I must be sick. I look at you and I …" 

Apollo sucks in a deep breath, and Will swears he can feel the god bolstering his power, charging himself like a battery, the tension between them thick enough to cut, and then Apollo moves. He flips himself over and covers Will's body with his own, then fastens their lips together and breaths out, filling Will up with that same charge. It rushes into Will's throat, up into his sinuses, back down to his lungs, and further, waking every cell, every hidden part of Will's being until he's saturated with it.

And then, there's Apollo's tongue, moving against Will's and Will moves his to meet it, to devour Apollo's kisses. Will's mind scatters. All the worries, the fears, the judgements blow away, replaced with a sensation of rightness, of _good_. Apollo's breath, his kiss, his divinity fills up the empty pit in Will's heart and smoothes it over with pure pleasure.

Apollo lifts his head a fraction, breaking the kiss, but not backing off, and Will looks up at him, glassy eyed, aroused to a new high, where he crests on the ache and doesn't fight it. "You said you wanted to come with me," Apollo breathes, his voice playing Will's heartstrings like a harp, leaving his body thrumming. 

It takes Will a moment to process what he'd heard. _Come with me?_ He wrinkles his nose on one side. "Seriously? You're playing with puns now?" 

Even if he sounds like a kid groaning at a 'dad joke', he chuckles. There is nothing, _nothing_ Will wants more than to come with Apollo. He stops laughing and licks his lips, then nods. 

Apollo grins, his teeth flashing white, his pupils blown so wide with arousal hardly any blue stands out around them. Apollo shifts his hips, and Will realizes exactly what position they're in. He makes a mewling sound as Apollo's cock nudges between his thighs, his underwear vanished, and then bumps up behind his balls. 

Will wraps his arms around Apollo's back, holding onto his shoulder blades while Apollo fucks between Will's thighs, supported on his hands, practically doing push ups. 

"God," Will cries, and Apollo chuckles, but Will's so far gone he doesn't acknowledge Apollo's humor. "Fuck my ass. Please. Fill me up and and make me yours." He's beyond caring how desperate that sounds, how needy. He _wants_ , and he's honestly asking for Apollo to meet his needs. 

Apollo's eyes appear to smoulder, his pupils eclipsing the blue and shining beyond, lit from behind as if by the sun, burning with its heat. The intensity is overwhelming, and Will wonders if he should try and take back his words, but then … No. He's standing by them. Apollo said Will had his full attention, had called him precious. Will moves his hands down to Apollo's ass, and then squeezes his cheeks. He bucks his dripping cock upward, seeking friction against Apollo's abs. 

If Apollo isn't going to respond to his plea, then Will will take whatever he can get to meet his needs himself. He shifts his hips, moving his legs apart and open kneed. He pushes his ass back against Apollo's hard cock, where it's lodged behind his balls. If he can just open up a little bit more, Apollo's cock will touch Will's hole. 

Apollo chuckles, rumbling laughter deep in his chest, and Will's attention moves to the firm brown nipples before his eyes. He wonders if a god's nipples are as sensitive as a mortal's. 

He brings his hand up to his mouth, pausing to see if Apollo will move, and then wets his fingertips and brushes them over each nipple in turn. 

Apollo's chuckling turns to a low keening moan, and the head of Apollo's cock finally bumps up against Will's hole. Will keeps at it, his other hand getting in on the action, pinching, flicking, twisting the nubs on Apollo's chest until the god finally starts to roll his hips. 

Will gasps again, and spreads his legs wider as the bumping turns to nudging. The more he tugs on Apollo's nipples, the closer he gets to being breached. No matter what, he isn't a masochist. Will doesn't want to be taken dry, but he also doesn't want to stop, doesn't want to remind Apollo that assholes are not self-lubricating. 

Will places his full palms over Apollo's pecs gripping them, pulling at them with sweaty suction. Apollo groans and pushes his hips forward, the head of his cock slipping inside Will and taking his breath away. But it's not bad at all. Apollo jerks his hips erratically, the blunt head slipping in and out, sending Will's nerves into a frenzy with wet, squelchy sounds. 

_Gods of Olympus,_ Will swears inside his own mind, realization dawning. Apollo came on his hole, used it as lubrication, and then finished inside him. Will's thighs tremble, and then shake. He looks down as a long strand of milky pre-come falls from the tip of his dick, his slit swollen, gaping like it's blowing kisses. 

"Please," Will whines. He looks up at Apollo's face, at his blue eyes full of awe, and it startles Will. He hadn't expected to render a god speechless. 

Apollo finally seems to regain control of himself, to recall what he's doing, and he nods at Will, then sinks his still hard cock in deeper. Will hisses through his teeth, sucking in a long breath, his ass stretched further than it ever has been. Will had only ever been brave enough to explore his ass using his fingers. Apollo's cock, when Will saw it, has his fingers beat in girth by a lot. 

Will feels like he's melting. Apollo has him stuffed and held in place while Will's muscles relax and sink into pure bliss. His thoughts loud in his own mind.

_Inside me. My father. The power of the sun is inside me. He claimed me. He wants me._

Apollo sinks in as deep as he can at the angle they're in, and then holds onto Will's shoulders with firm hands. "C'mon, sweetheart. I need you up here."

Will's lips twitch at being called sweetheart, but it touches him deeply. He's worried for so long his heart was dysfunctional, that it was poisoned. And Apollo, famous for speaking the truth, even when it hurts, had declared Will's heart sweet. 

Will holds onto Apollo's arms as Apollo pulls him upright, then shifts, supporting Will's ass with his hands, holding him close in his lap. Will huffs, breathing short and fast, fucked so full his lungs seem to have diminished room in his chest. 

"You with me, Kiddo?" Apollo murmurs, brushing his lips along the line of Will's jaw. 

"Yeah," he says, his voice more breath than vocal vibration. He swallows, staring into Apollo's eyes. The blue is back and Will falls into it. He wouldn't mind sinking into Apollo's eyes and living there. 

And then Apollo grips Will's cock, coaxing it back to full hardness, and rocking his hips gently so his thrusts are simultaneously deep and shallow. It's enough though. Will's been ramped up to the point of coming so many times, and stopped, refusing to touch. Now, the sensation of the head of Apollo's cock, slipping in and out of his foreskin inside Will, the ridge brushing over Will's prostate with each shallow pull back and thrust forward, he's going to come. 

Apollo works Will's dick with his fingers, fucking it between them, then rubbing over the head with Will's foreskin and Apollo's pre-come-slicked palm. He holds the head like a knob, his grip loose, but each time he thrusts up inside Will, Will's cock jumps and hits the soft surface of Apollo's palm, rubbing it right. 

Rising higher, his balls tight, Will finds Apollo's lips with his mouth and latches on, needing the anchor of his father's tongue, the tickle against the roof of his mouth. It's almost too much all at once, and Will's not sure he _can_ stay present long enough to climax. 

Apollo moves, trailing wet kisses over Will's cheek and then nibbling his earlobe. "Come for me, sweetheart. I'll catch you."

Will pushes back as Apollo thrusts forward, spurting his release like a fucking fountain, an overwhelming geyser of relief spilling free. Thrumming like a plucked lyre string, pure pleasure pull him under until he slumps against Apollo's neck. Apollo holds Will close while he slips into the land of dreams.

~*~

When Will wakes again, he expects to find himself back in the Apollo cabin at Camp Half-Blood, but he's still with Apollo. His cheek is cushioned by Apollo's chest, his back supported in a warm hug by Apollo's arm.

"Morning, kiddo," Apollo murmurs, turning back to his newspaper. **Olympus Daily** , Will reads blurry-eyed. 

He blinks the sleep from his eyes and runs his hand down Apollo's wrist where it rests on his waist. Something tickles the back of his hand, soft, light, and he turns and looks over his shoulder.

Asleep beside him, facedown on the bed, is Zephyros, god of the West Wind, naked but for the russet-colored wings folded against his back. The one nearest Will twitches and sends a flurry of fluffy down wafting toward Will. 

Will isn't sure how he feels about it. He wonders if this is how Apollo plans to introduce him to his new partner? As far as Will knows Apollo has never actually taken a partner, though he's always wanted one. But, Zephyr? 

Will turns back to find Apollo watching him, his godly face a little flushed. 

"You have something you want to tell me, _Dad_?" Will asks, though he's teasing. He knows _he_ couldn't be enough to satisfy a god, that Apollo would likely want Will to keep quiet about last night. Honestly, Will feels okay with that, and no one needs to know about it. It's a family affair, he thinks to himself. 

Zephyros groans. "That's a horrible pun, Sun Baby," the wind god says, drawing out the word horrible like it pains him. 

Will lifts an eyebrow at Apollo. "I thought you hated this guy." He turns back to Zephyr with narrowed eyes. "You can read my mind?"

Zephyros yawns as he lifts his head. He blinks. "What? Oh... No. It's just obvious. He waves his hand vaguely at Will's face, then at Apollo's. "Spitting image, and all that. And this asshole is the worst punner ever."

Apollo looks across Will at the wind god with shifty eyes. "Punner isn't even a word."

Zephyr sticks out his tongue and Will can't help but feel the heat rippling between them when he's lying right there. Then a shiver of arousal chases up his spine.

"What?" he asks, feeling pinned in place by two pairs of godly eyes at once. 

"Sweetheart," Apollo says, then runs his hand up Will's left calf to the hinge of his thigh and Zephyros does the same with his right leg. "I'm not nearly finished with you. Trust me?"

Will swallows, and nods slowly. 

"What about me?" Zephyros asks, his voice melodic and teasing. With his black hair and red wings, his skin bronzed three shades darker than Apollo's, Will has a feeling he's about to get an education he never knew he craved. 

Will nods his head, and then holds on tight. It's going to be a bumpy ride.


End file.
